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tworthy but misguided man writes himself, we perceive, J.P. on his title-page; and asks us to bear in mind that he is "author of 'Lady Morgan; her Career, Literary and Personal,' and of 'The Life, Times, and Contemporaries of Lord Cloncurry,' &c." The letters J.P. stand, we presume, here as elsewhere, for Justice of the Peace. Let us express the hope that the Justice's law is better then his literature. As to 'Lady Morgan; her Career, Literary and Personal,' and 'The Life, Times, and Contemporaries of Lord Cloncurry,' we confess that we never saw one or other of them. But if to Lady Morgan and Lord Cloncurry Mr Fitzpatrick has meted out the same measure of injustice which he has dispensed to Archbishop Whately, then he will have contrived to render two very silly, and, to the utmost extent of their poor ability, very pestilent people, even more ridiculous after death than they made themselves in their lifetime.
Richard Whately, the hapless victim of an Irish J.P.'s attempt at authorship, was the youngest son of the Rev. Joseph Whately, one of the Prebandaries of Bristol. He was born on the 1st of February 1786, in Cavendish Square, London, during one of those temporary sojourns in the capital with which his family were acccustomed to refresh themselves. After passing through a good private school, he was entered at Oriel College, Oxford, of which Mr Copplestone, subsequently Provost, and by-and-by Dean of St Paul's and Bishop of Llandaff, was then the classical tutor. Mr Whately's career as an undergraduate was respectable, but by no means brilliant. He maintained a fair place in the lecture-room, and generally acquitted himself well at collections; but he neither astonished his teachers, as the late Sir William Hamilton did, by the extent and accuracy of his scholarship, nor, like Keble, won both their admiration and affection by throwing over the commonest College
exercise the halo of a poetic mind. Neither can it be said of him that he was popular with his contemporaries. A tall gaunt figure, manners rude, sometimes bordering upon boorishness, and an aptitude in saying sharp things in season and out of season, offended the multitude, who seldom care to look far into the characters of those who tread upon their corns. But beneath this rough exterior there were qualities which gradually worked to the surface and did their owner yeoman's service. Copplestone, in particular, found out ere long that his queer-mannered pupil was no common man; and the pupil, not much accustomed in those days to be treated kindly, opened his heart to the tutor, and they became fast friends. Certainly there were few points of resemblance between the constitutions, moral and intellectual, of the two men. But the attachment thus commenced remained unbroken to the last; they shared each other's confidence through life.
We are not prepared to say that Whately ever deserved to be regarded as a great man; but he was, throughout the whole of a career which extended beyond the average duration of human life, an able and industrious man. As an undergraduate he lived a good deal alone, and was never idle. Besides holding his own in classics and mathematics, he studied French, German, and Italian, and read a great deal of history, annotating as he went along. Logic, metaphysics, and, above all, political economy, likewise, attracted his attention, for his talents were as discursive as his capacity of labour was immense. His powers of conversation, also, though very peculiar, were always great. general he harangued somewhat after the fashion of Coleridge, but controversy never came amiss to him, and he was especially brilliant when provoked to support a fallacy or maintain a paradox. How far his possession of these qualities may have helped him to the Fellow
ship which in 1811 he obtained, we are not prepared to say; but he was certainly not indebted for that advancement to the honours carried off in the schools; and the English prize essay, creditable to the College as it was, would not have turned the scale in his favour had it stood alone.
Whately was by nature a hard worker. He could never "rest and be thankful" himself, nor allow anybody else to rest out of whom he conceived that work ought to be got. He was, likewise, a great reformer of abuses, real and imaginary. This is conspicuously shown in the declension which his opinions underwent, from what are generally regarded as High Church dogmata to their opposites. He had no belief latterly in tradition, and very little in the doctrine of an apostolical succession, both of which had originally found favour with him. On the other hand, his faith in the great principles of Christianity never wavered. However oddly he might at times enunciate that faith, however eccentric he might be in his manner of discharging the functions of his office, Whately, from boyhood to the hour of death, remained firm in his acceptance of the fundamental principles of Christianity. For example, he looked to a life beyond the grave, solely on the grounds laid down for that inheritance in the New Testament. Unlike Lord Brougham and other philosophers whom he admired, Whately scouted the idea of the natural immortality of the soul. All the inferences which these draw from the phenomena of dreams, and the exercise of memory and imagition, went with him for nothing. He was as much convinced as they that the vital principle in man, and indeed in all animals, is immaterial: but he found, neither in that conviction nor in the speculations of Aristotle and Plato, the slightest reason for coming to the conclusion that the soul of man must necessarily be immortal. On the contrary, he filled several pages of his commonplace
book with observations which show that, in his opinion, not one of the heathen philosophers entertained or had the faintest reason for entertaining decided views on that subject; and that Aristotle in particular, to whom Lord Brougham refers as accepting a future state of reward and punishment, distinctly rejects the notion. We recommend our readers to look into this interesting little essay, which they will find in the volume entitled 'Miscellaneous Remains,' which the piety of Dr Whately's gifted daughter has induced her to publish. It will amply repay the light labour of a perusal.
Besides busying himself in the correction of College and University abuses, and indulging his natural taste for literary and philosophical composition, Whately threw himself into the work of tuition, both public and private. Besides teaching a class as one of the recognised tutors of Oriel, he read at by-hours with a select few of the more aspiring undergraduates, and helped them in the race after honours. It is characteristic of the man that he persevered in this course, not only in spite of a constitutional dislike to the occupation, but in some sort because the occupation was distasteful to him.
"It is curious to consider," he wrote in 1818, "what it is that makes public tuition such a poison to me as it seems The thing that most fatigues the mind seems to be that which is felt as a task; I mean that the latter circumstance is the cause of the former, not vice versa. So, at least, it is with me, who often do the same thing with pleasure when voluntary, to it. This, however, is the case both which fags me when I am compelled with private and public tuition; but the latter seems to derive its greatly superior effect from the additional anxiety. Every man requires to be separately watched, and requires, in some degree, a different treatment; and hardly ever will the whole of a class be going on well. So, as compared with private tuition, it is like balancing ten things at once. Besides this, there is a personal interest in each
private pupil which, if he goes on well, is a vast lightening of labour, and which is felt in but a very weak and watery manner towards each of so many public pupils. I work from a sense of duty; but my affections cannot be engaged by a body corporate."
If Whately took a personal interest in each of his private pupils, a large majority of those who profited by his instructions and scholarship repaid the feeling fourfold. To the case of one of these gentlemen, recently taken away from among us, we may be permitted to allude.
The late Mr Nassau Senior, going in for his bachelor's degree, was plucked. He failed, if we recollect right, in divinity-to break down in which, as it formed the first subject on which the aspirant was then examined, rendered fruitless any amount of general learning, and insured immediate rejection. Nowise distrustful of himself, Mr Senior determined to try again at the next examination; and, in the meanwhile, looked out for a private tutor with whom to read. He called upon Whately, and expressed a wish to be received by him as a pupil. Whately, never very tender of the feelings of others, though as little delighting in the pain which he inflicted as man could well do, scarcely took the trouble to look his visitor in the face, but answered, "You were plucked, I believe. I never receive pupils unless I see reason to assume that they mean to aspire at honours.' "I mean to aspire at honours," replied Senior. "You do, do you?" was the answer. "May I ask what class you intend to take?" first class," said Senior, coolly. Whately's brow relaxed. He seemed tickled with the idea that a lad who had been plucked in November, should propose to get into the first class in March; and he at once desired Senior to come to be coached. Never were tutor and pupil better matched. Senior read hard -went up, as he had proposed to do, into the schools in March-and came out of them with the highest honours which the examining mas
ters could confer. Senior and Whately became fast friends at once; and to Senior, more perhaps than to Earl Grey himself, Whately was, in point of fact, indebted for his advancement to the see of Dublin. For Senior, a man of great talent-which a very silly manner and a vast amount of vanity could not mar-made himself useful to the Whigs in various ways, and was especially consulted by them in the preparation of their new Poor Law. It happened that, during an interview with Earl Grey, the latter spoke of the death of Archbishop Magee, and of the difficulty which he experienced in finding a successor for that prelate from among a body so tinctured as the more eminent of the clergy then were with Toryism. "You need not go far
for a man who will fill the see with credit to you and honour to himself," said Senior. Then followed an account of Whately. of his scholarship, his reforming propensities, his acquaintance with the principles of political economy, and his Liberalism. Lord Grey listened attentively, inquired farther about Whately, and finally, in a manner most gratifying to the subject of this sketch, offered him the archbishopric. But we must not anticipate the incidents of our story.
Whately pursued the tenor of his eccentric way as fellow and tutor of Oriel from 1812 till the summer of 1822. He contracted during that interval various intimacies, some of which carried within them, from the first, the seeds of early dissolution; while others, founded on general similarity of tastes and views, promised to be, though all were not, enduring. Dr Newman, for example, a very young man when Whately and he first became acquainted, acknowledged the influence of a nature harder than his own, yet bore the yoke impatiently. Arnold and Blanco White, on the other hand (the latter a Spanish exile for conscience' sake, who fixed his residence in Oxford, and was much sought after by the
more intellectual of the resident members of the University), took to him with all their hearts. Arnold continued on terms of the closest intimacy with Whately till his own death. It was not so with Blanco White. That unfortunate man, after going through every phase of religious belief, from the highest Anglicanism down to the depth of Unitarianism, took refuge from further doubt in total infidelity; and then, though not without a pang, Whately threw him off. What a story is his ! How distressing to read, yet how full of warning and instruction, especially to the young Keble, Pusey, and others of their way of thinking. On the other hand, Whately was all along in a state of restrained antagonism. He went with them so far as to assert the natural independence of the Church upon the State, arguing only for the beneficial effect to both of a union on fair terms. But the doctrine of apostolical succession-with its necessary inference, that there is a marked difference between Churches, one of which is episcopally governed, while the other acknowledges no special episcopal order among the clergy-he received at first with considerable misgiving, and by-and-by with derision. This and his contempt for the doctrine of tradition, a feeling which he never concealed, placed between him and the founders of the Tractarian school an impassable gulf. It was not so in the case of Arnold. Arnold, as we need scarcely stop to explain, held and taught that the Church both is, and ought to be, the creature of the State; that the clergy, whether bishops or presbyters, take their proper place in society only when they feel themselves to be as much servants of the civil power as magistrates or constables; and that the idea of receiving, from the imposition of hands, any special character of sanctity, is the merest superstition. Now, no one could reject this notion more decidedly in his own way than Whately. Yet
diversity of opinion on that point never interfered with the friendship between the two men, probably because both of them considered that no great principle was at issue;
that the question was one of speculative opinion, and nothing
Besides Newman, Arnold, Keble, Pusey, and Blanco White (the latter an outsider), Whately numbered among his contemporaries and acquaintances at Oxford, Davison, Froude, R. Wilberforce, Spencer, Hawkins, Lloyd, and Hamden. It cannot be said, however, that, with the exceptions above enumerated, he looked much into that gifted circle for the companions of his lighter hours. Already that taste began to develop itself which became a master-passion in later life. He delighted in being looked up to, and infinitely preferred to the society of giants in intellect that of persons who were willing to make his views their own. Let us not, however, be unjust to such men as Hinds, late Bishop of Norwich, Dr Fitzgerald, afterwards Bishop of Cork, Dr Dickinson, Bishop of Meath, and Dr West. They were indeed Whately's satellites, and owed to him the preferments to which they attained. But looking to the circle in which they moved, and the principles which they professed, their worst enemy, if they have one, will not deny to them the possession of great good sense, and at least a fair measure of literary and practical ability.
Whately removed to a vicarage in Suffolk in 1822, and shortly afterwards took to himself a wife. A family came fast to add to his cares, and to stimulate his industry. It was untiring. He did little for his parish, it is true. His training as a college don-liberal don as he was- -disqualified him from dealing usefully with a peasant population. But he studied hard and wrote much, on a great variety of subjects. In 1822, the first year of his incumbency, he preached the Bampton Lectures, selecting for his
subject a characteristic theme'The Use and Abuse of Party Feeling in matters of Religion.' These were followed by essays: one series intended for the edification of rustic labourers; another, 'On the Difficulties in the Writings of St Paul, and in other parts of the New Testament.' The latter maintains, in a scholarly manner, the Arminian view of St Paul's theology, and shows, at once ingeniously and distinctly, that to the writings of the great apostle the advocates of Calvinism have no right to appeal. The work attracted considerable attention at the time, and was quoted against the author many years afterwards, with no small measure of acrimony, by the more violent of the ultra-Protestant party over whom he was called upon to preside when appointed to the see of Dublin.
Whately was out of his element as vicar of Halsworth and Chadiston. He never complained, for it was not in his nature to give utterance to complaints on any subject; but it is certain that he received with unmixed satisfaction, in 1826, the announcement that Earl Granville, then Chancellor of the University of Oxford, had nominated him to the headship of St Alban's Hall. It was the position which, above all others, he could have most desired at that time to hold. University life had become to him second nature, and he returned to it with a mind overflowing with plans for the correction of abuses and the promotion of sound learning. Whether his plans were in every instance wise as well as practical, may be doubted. But whatever Whately willed, that he laboured assiduously to bring about; and Oxford soon felt again that a reformer, and a very troublesome one, was in the midst of it.
One special object of Whately's abhorrence and contempt was the study of logic, as it was then conducted in the University. The only text-book in use was Aldridge's
a queer, quaint, and ill-arranged
epitome of the Aristotelian, or rather Socratic, system of syllogistic argumentation. The new Principal of St Alban's Hall had not been many months in office before his great work, The Elements of Logic,' made its appearance in a separate form, with a preface which told many truths, and did not care to tell them pleasantly. The Elements of Logic' was accepted at the time, and may still be considered to be a work of very considerable power. It popularises a science which had been so dealt with previously in England as to deter the keenest appetite from approaching it; and it had the additional merit of inciting other, and some of them better qualified, labourers to enter upon the same field; but it met with large opposition too. Sir William Hamilton attacked it fiercely; and the 'Edinburgh Review' itself, forgetful of past obligations to the author, did him as much mischief as possible by damning his performance with faint praise. And, looking at the matter from the point of view which Sir William Hamilton took up, there is no denying that the treatise lay open to many and grave objections. Logic, as taught in Oxford then, and even as Whately explained it, bears very little resemblance_to that science which Professor Jardine of Glasgow, sixty years ago, rendered at once so popular and so useful. But then the question arises, whether Jardine's system was the true system; whether the groundwork for acute reasoning must be laid in a preliminary acquaintance with the constitution of the human mind; in other words, whether, in Scotland, we have not accustomed ourselves to run two distinct subjects into one, by blending metaphysics and logic together? Be this as it may, Whately did, in the cause of his favourite treatise, what he was not much in the habit of doing when his opinions were called in question. He took the reproofs of his critics in good part, and went so far as to modify,